KICKING THE DEVIL'S ASS
By: Karen B.
Summary: Season five spoiler warning. Swan Song. Sam's pov before falling into the pit. This is a sequel to 'Look Before You Fall. (Dean's pov) You do not need to read 'Look Before You Fall' to understand this story, but it is a companion piece to this story.
Disclaimer: Not the owner.
Rated: Second verse same as the first, only in Sam's pov. Sappy/sad.
AN: I posted this as chapter two of Look Before You Fall as well, if you'd rather read them back -to- back.
I was his prisoner. Beaten down. Daggers of ice and cold stabbed at me over and over, freezing darkness all around. I was on the verge of passing out, giving up. I could hear Dean, just barely, his voice frayed and tattered.
'Dean, help,' I called, but my mouth and vocals didn't correspond with my brain.
I couldn't see, and didn't understand much, but I understood the tone of Dean's voice. My brother was suffering.
Dean called to me again, and it was like a splash of warm water on my freezing cold face.
Damn it, I had to get to him. I had to get to him. I had to get to him. The words playing over and over in my head got me up and running.
The mirror the devil sometimes let me look out, twisted and turned. Everything Lucifer had been showing me, ass-backward, suddenly flipped ass-forward. His mirror of deceit began to distort, sending ghostly images galloping about. Images of my past. Of my family. Times we shared. Good times. Bad times. Times of sacrifice. Times of devotion. Of security and warmth and tears. All the times that ever fucking mattered in this screwed up world were the times I spent with them.
The devil tried to harness those images, muddy them so I couldn't see, but I wanted to see. Sam Winchester, this is your life, your meat suit, your choice. My yes's and my no's - and I chose to take my yes back.
I kicked into auxiliary drive, no longer thinking with my brain, but rather thinking with my heart. Something was nagging at me. For a moment I couldn't feel or think, and I sensed neither could Lucifer. His funhouse maze of mirrors disappeared. Neither one of us was able to move, our title match put on hold, until something snapped and a jolt of energy slammed Lucifer to the ground.
Lucifer, who had been the ambassador of calm and cool, the big bad man driving the bus - just got his ass kicked to the rear. I'd engaged him in battle and ripped him apart from the inside out. But my job wasn't over. I shuddered, warm breath hissing past my dehydrated lips. I still had to put him back and seal him in his cage for good.
"I got you, you bastard," I laughed harshly.
The devil was pissed, and determined. Stubbornly struggling to gain back control, but I was the king of stubborn. My will as strong as his and my world, my loyalty and my love, greater. I had a good stronghold on him now and I scrambled away climbing upward. Using everything I had in me, I reached out to Dean - my brother's voice - my lifeline, pulling me out.
'Dean,' I called again, surging forward, taking one last gloating look over my shoulder at the devil, my prisoner now, pinned in a dark corner. Frozen ice-bits that had been flowing through my veins, turned scolding hot as I crashed through his broken mirror.
First thing I saw was my reflection in the window of the Impala. Me. Sam Winchester. Not Satin. Not a monster. Not John's son or Dean's little brother, but me. Second, I saw that damn army guy I'd crammed in the ash tray of the back seat. I'd forgotten all about the thing. At the time, I hated the toy. It represented everything I never wanted. But looking at the little, green army man now - without all that a soldier represented - I'd be lost.
Then I saw Dean. He was breathing hard, his face a bloody, swollen, near death mess. Did I do that? No. Lucifer did that. The icy-cold chill that had been sweeping through me like daggers of shooting icicles was gone. Dean, he, didn't take his eyes off me. I was stunned. He was here. He hadn't left me when Lucifer took the wheel. Even though we'd had our differences through the years, when it came down to the wire, he was always there whenever I really needed him, walking that wire for me and with me. This time, he'd been beaten down off that wire to his knees by Lucifer - and still he never left me.
My fist loosened and suddenly I was in control. I could blink, could move my head. I'd stopped Lucifer from breaking every bone in Dean's body and now I would shove the devil back in his cage for good, take his fiddle of gold and my soul.
I stumbled backward, away from Dean. I didn't want the deadly swathe of evil to ever touch him again. Yet, what I was about to do, had to do, prickled my skin like a thousand scorching needles.
Dean was right. I wasn't a kid anymore. But right at that second. That split second when I realized this would be the last time I was ever going to see him - I wished I was a kid again.
I was scared. I wanted Dean to charge in and save me. I wanted this to all be one stupid, long, crazy bad nightmare. I'd wake up. We'd both be kids again. Dean would be there, arms tight around me, saying how everything would be okay. It was just a dream go back to sleep, Sammy. I'm here. I won't leave you.
Lucifer suddenly kicked me in the gut, trying to claw his way out. I took in a few huge deep breaths, son of a bitch wasn't going anywhere. It was my turn to be the one telling Dean everything would be okay.
I tossed the rings to the grass and chanted the words. The earth shook like a giant forest had just fallen - all at once. The ground collapsed inward and the cage door opened.
The winds of darkness bellowed out, screeching and yowling. Horrible things threatened to erupt from hell and completely take over - blackening all of existence. Over the tortured hollowing, I swore Dean sobbed my name. There was a butt-load of things I needed to tell him. Wanted to tell him. God, did I ever tell him? All the times I didn't feel like I belonged, the tears I shed, the pain - he took that all away. And what about the homework, the soccer games, the training, the cans of Spaghettio's and boxes of Lucky Charms I ate; while he went hungry. How many times did Dean have to put me first, taking the bullshit dad stuck him with - I wanted to take it back. I don't know how he did it all. He was everything to me. A mother. A father. A brother. My partner. My best friend. I didn't want to lose Dean. I wanted to run to him. Fix him the way he'd always tried to fix me. But the only thing I needed him to know right now was that I was holding him to his promse. To live the life he deep-down wished for. I glanced one more time at Dean. I had to be sure.
Dean sat quietly. Watching me. He choked back another sob. I could tell he wanted to run to me, too, but he wouldn't. It was my choice. It was killing him, but he was letting me be the man I needed to be.
I quickly searched my big brother's face - one last look between us.
I wanted to cry, but didn't, only because I was certain Dean would swallow that apple pie I'd forced down his throat. It hurt to make him promise, but he did, and I was glad for it. I nodded, remaining calm, though I was anything but. I may have kicked the devil's ass, but his storm was still brewing - a river of furry flowing inside me. There was no more time.
'Do it! Do it now!' I told myself.
Ignoring Michael, I closed my eyes and spread my arms. All that mattered was that Dean was here, holding on to me.
If Dean had the courage to let me fall - I had to have the courage to fly.
As I predicted, Michael tried to stop me. But I was prepared, caught him by the sleeve of his jacket, and clung on. I didn't think, didn't look, just fell - dragging us both into the darkness.